


The First Steps

by The_Plaid_Slytherin



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: AU, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2013-12-30
Packaged: 2018-01-06 18:51:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1110322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/pseuds/The_Plaid_Slytherin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Saul is accused of a drunk-driving hit-and-run, Bill is forced to reevaluate their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Steps

**Author's Note:**

> Written for scifishipper's holiday wish for angst. Thanks to fragrantwoods for the beta!

When Bill woke up, Saul wasn't there and his side of the bed hadn't been slept in. He sat up and sighed. He'd really hoped Saul would have come home earlier.

He rolled out of bed and headed for the shower. There was always the faint hope that Saul would show up in time for work, but he doubted it. While he scrubbed shampoo into his hair, he contemplated what he would tell command Saul was down with. Maybe a stomach bug…

He got breakfast in the boys and got them off to school and then waited with his coffee as long as he dared. Saul sauntered in just as Bill was very slowly washing the breakfast dishes.

"Rough night?" Bill asked.

"A bit." He flashed Bill a dazzling smirk. "Head's killing me, though."

"Go crash. I already called you in sick."

"Okay." Saul kissed his forehead. "I'll make dinner."

"Sounds good. Don't forget about Zak's early bus."

"I won't." Saul hung his jacket up and headed for the bedroom.

As he drove to base, Bill wondered what he could do to keep Saul from wanting to go out by himself. It was far from every night, and when the boys were at CarolAnne's, they could go out together, but Bill couldn't shake the feeling that maybe they should be having more date nights.

There was that family in the downstairs apartment with a daughter in high school. Maybe she babysat. Bill thought about how he'd plan it out. He'd need to line up a babysitter first. Then find a nice restaurant…

It was a good plan, he thought, maybe one he could execute as soon as that Friday. This was shaping up to be a pretty good day, all things considered. More nights like that would be good for their relationship. He knew the transition had been hard on Saul, going from life in space to life on base, but Bill was grateful to Saul for accompanying him. Having that companionship made all the difference when he was trying to raise those boys by himself. Saul was a big help despite his sometimes being under the weather, and the boys liked him.

Bill understood the temptation, though. In space, Saul had had his booze, to be sure, but he'd had to conserve it. On the ground, he could get as much as he wanted, which sometimes posed a problem—not that Bill wasn't guilty of indulging a bit too much himself, sometimes, but he had responsibilities. He was a father, and as a test pilot, was subject to regular screening.

And the Mark V Viper made it all worth it. That was what he was flying now and she was an absolute beauty. Bill was a bit disappointed that his career as a regular pilot was probably finished because he'd have loved to fly the V out of a battlestar. In the meantime, he'd have to be content with ground tests; maybe there'd be a space test coming up…

"Husker, base, come back to the nest. Repeat, come back to the nest."

What? It had only been ten minutes. Bill tapped his radio. "Base, Husker, do I copy that? Did you say come back to the nest?"

"You copy that, Husker. Some folks here need to talk to you."

Bill's heart skipped a beat. It couldn't be bad news. He'd seen the boys safely onto the school bus and that had been hours ago; he would have heard about it earlier if there had been some sort of accident. And Saul was home…

Oh no. It was Dad, or Sam, or Larry.

Larry. Another heart attack, probably. Bill was already planning what he'd do—call Saul to pick the boys up to bring them to the (hopefully) hospital and…

He brought the bird in for a landing (thank the gods the V was so smooth) and didn't wait for the ground crew to help him out. At the end of the runway, he could see some MPs and civilian cops. His stomach dropped as he approached them.

"Major Adama?" one of the cops asked. "I'm Officer Bentz from the Caprica City Police."

Bill began to unzip his flight suit. "What's this about?"

"Do you know the whereabouts of Saul Vincent Tigh?"

Bill forked a hand through his hair. "Last I saw him, he was at home. We… we're roommates. He's sick today."

Bentz nodded. "Can you tell me where he was at nine PM last night?"

Bill swallowed hard. "He went out to Rudy's. It's a little place—"

"Yeah, I know where it is." Bentz pushed his hair back from his forehead. It was a hot summer day and Bill didn't envy him hoofing it around town on some wild goose chase. "We just came from there and Tigh wasn't there last night."

"Why do you want to find Saul? Do you think he was a witness to something?"

Bentz eyed the MPs, who were looking at him suspiciously. "Major, we think he may have been involved in a hit-and-run accident last night."

Bill took a sharp intake of breath. "He was fine when I saw him."

Bentz sighed. "We don't think he was the victim."

"Not the victim?" Everything around Bill started to go fuzzy. He could see Commander Downey approaching, a grim look on his face. There had to be some kind of mistake…

He only really processed fragments of what was said next… a little girl had been struck by a brown Columbiana… there had been a two in the plate (Saul's plate number started with two)… Downey was asking if Saul had really been sick that morning, was saying they were both suspended until the matter was resolved…

Bill didn't quite come to until he was behind the wheel of his own car when he realized he had to get home. If Saul wasn't there, he had to find him before the cops did…

He drove quickly but carefully, trying to decide what to do. A lawyer. He'd have to call his father.

Saul couldn't have done this.

His car, Bill hadn't noticed any damage to Saul's car when he'd taken his own out that morning…

He pulled into his space and scrambled out, almost tripping over his own feet in an effort to check out the Columbiana.

There was a dent in the grill and the headlight was smashed.

Bill braced himself against the hood, breathing hard. That had to have happened last night. Saul loved that damn muscle car; if anything had happened to it, he'd have seen to it as soon as possible.

He sprinted out of the garage and toward the front door. He nearly ran into Saul swiping his way into the building

"Where've you been?" Bill panted.

Saul held up his bags. "Shopping."

"Why'd you walk?"

"Got a dent in the 'Lumbi." He didn't meet Bill's eyes as he pulled the front door open.

"Did you have too much to drink last night?" Bill followed him into the vestibule.

Saul headed for the stairs. "No, okay? I only had a little bit."

They climbed the stairs together, not saying much until they'd reached their floor. It was an old building, a former house, and voices carried—this was definitely something Bill preferred to keep from the neighbors.

"What did you really do?" Bill said as he let them into their apartment. He couldn't stop his voice from shaking.

"I went to Rudy's." Saul was unpacking the groceries, calm as anything. "Told you."

Bill was about to respond to that when the buzzer went off. That would be the cops.

**

They questioned Saul in the kitchen, leaving Bill to spend a very anxious forty-five minutes in the living room, with an officer watching him. He hadn't done anything wrong, he knew, but he still felt guilty.

Zak coming in surprised him. That's right. Early bus.

"What's wrong, Daddy?"

Bill stared at him blankly. What did he say to a six-year-old, who'd already known such upheaval in his short life?

How did he explain what Saul had done? If he'd done it…

A little girl Zak's age.

Bill patted the couch next to him for Zak to sit. "These police officers had to ask Saul a few questions," he said. "He'll be done soon."

A little girl Zak's age.

Bill could feel the doubt creeping up the back of his neck. He knew Saul would never do it on purpose, but he had driven drunk in the past.

But he'd told Bill he hadn't had that much, and with all his faults, Saul didn't lie to Bill.

The kitchen door opened and a young officer came out. "Hey," she said to Zak. "I'm Sonia. Saul told me you play pyramid."

"Yeah." Zak jumped to his feet, eager to have someone new to meet. "I have a huuuge poster of Garrett Tyler. Wanna see?"

He scurried off to the boys' room and Sonia followed.

Bill got up just as Bentz came out of the kitchen. "What was that about?"

Bentz looked solemn. "We have to take him in, but if we can avoid having kids see the parent in cuffs, we like to."

For some reason, Bill's first instinct was to be offended that they had decided this for him.

The kitchen door opened and they led Saul out in handcuffs. They really were arresting him. Bill rushed over to him.

"I'll call Dad," he said. "He'll know what to do."

Saul looked pained. "Sorry, Bill," was all he said before they led him out the door.

**

Bill hesitated for a long time over how to tell his father. Joseph had never liked Saul and disapproved roundly of Bill living with him with the kids. This would surely be the final straw in whatever tolerance he had for his future son-in-law.

But Saul's defense was more important than saving face. He had to try.

"I need a lawyer," Bill said. He was trying to keep his voice low so the boys wouldn't hear. They were in the kitchen having pizza, Saul's curry ingredients sitting unassembled in the fridge.

"What kind?" His father sound bewildered. "What's wrong with Murdoch?"

Bill sighed. Murdoch had represented him in the divorce. "I need a... a criminal defense attorney."

"Oh, gods, William. What did he do?"

The assumption, correct though it was, struck him like a knife in the gut. "They think he was involved in an accident... It can't have been him but they've arrested him anyway."

Joseph sighed. "I really don't know what you see in him, son. If I were you, I'd leave him to rot."

Bill remained silent. "Just a name, Dad," he finally said.

Bill gave him the name, a young former student of his that Bill could probably afford. He'd call Lampkin in the morning.

When he went into the boys' room to read to them, they were both sitting on Lee's bed, looking worried.

"Where's Saul?" Lee asked

Bill took a deep breath. What did he say? What could he say to his boys, to tell them that one of the few stable figures in their life might be gone from it?

"Did he go to jail?" Zak asked suddenly.

Bill sat on the bed and put his arms around both boys. "Yes, he did." He took a deep breath. "They think he might have caused an accident, so he's going to stay in jail while they figure it out."

"Why's he getting in trouble if it's an accident?" Lee asked.

"Because..." Bill took a deep breath. "Because when you grow up and drive a car, you have to follow certain rules. And if you forget the rules, even for a second, and cause an accident, that's your fault. But sometimes grownups don't always follow the rules." He brushed back Zak's hair. "Remember when I got a speeding ticket? It was silly of me to speed just because I didn't think there was a policeman. But there was a policeman and I got caught."

"But you didn't go to jail. Why is Saul in jail?"

Bill bit his lip. "Because someone may have been hurt in the accident."

"Are they okay?"

"They're fine," Bill said. "But because someone was hurt a little bit, Saul may be in some trouble."

"How do they not know if it was his fault?"

"Because they can't be sure if it was Saul or somebody else. Saul says it wasn't him and we believe him, but the police have to be sure so they're looking at Saul's car and other places to make sure. They don't want to send an innocent man to jail."

Zak seemed satisfied. "Can Saul tuck us in tomorrow?"

"If he's home." Bill got up and kissed both boys on the forehead. Zak seemed content, though he made no move for his own bed. Lee looked skeptical and Bill slipped out before he could ask more questions.

**

The next day, Bill saw the boys onto the bus and then drove downtown to the jail.

"So you're Joe Adama's son?" Romo Lampkin crossed the lobby to shake Bill's hand. "I already went in to talk to him. They may not have a case against him by the time they have to arraign him. That means within forty-eight hours of arrest."

Bill nodded. "Okay. So tomorrow evening."

Lampkin nodded. "In the meantime, I'll get started with the case. Do you know what to do?"

"Yeah." Having a lawyer father and a gangster uncle meant Bill knew the procedure. "They gonna let me see him?"

Lampkin nodded. "You go on back, then we can talk."

Despite his uncle's criminal record, Bill had never actually visited him in jail. It was a bit nerve-wracking to walk back there, empty-handed, to the bank of windows.

Saul had his head on his arms, leaning on the ledge when Bill walked up and sat down. But when he saw him, he seemed to light up. He grabbed for the receiver.

"How much of a mess do I look?" he asked, with a smirk. He had bags under his eyes and his hair was uncombed. Bill tried not to look down at his purple jumpsuit.

"You look fine," Bill lied. "You talked to the lawyer?"

Saul nodded. "He said they might not have a case." He moistened his lips. "But listen, Bill, I'm really not sure."

"Not sure about what?"

Saul leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Whether I did it." It didn't sound like him in the receiver and Bill had a sudden feeling that this was not real.

"You said you hadn't been drinking?"

"I know." Saul looked utterly wounded, which was making it hard for Bill to feel angry. "I blacked out. I really don't remember. And I dinged up my car pretty bad…"

This wasn't happening.

"Saul, are you telling me you _drove when you were that hammered_?"

"Yeah." Saul rubbed his eyes. "Yeah, Bill, I did."

"So you lied to me?" Bill's mouth was dry. He knew Saul had a problem. He knew he had trouble controlling himself once he got started, but he'd thought he would know better than to drink and drive. He had _promised_ not to, when he moved in with Bill and the kids…

"Yeah." Saul sat back, not meeting Bill's eyes. "I did, Bill." Then, he dropped the receiver and buried his head in his hands. Bill hung up the receiver and left.

**

"Is Saul still in jail?" Lee asked, when the boys got home.

"Yes." Bill loosened his tie and sat down in an armchair, feeling defeated. "He is."

Zak trudged into their bedroom, looking sad. Lee stared at Bill expectantly. After a moment, he asked, "Was he _drunk_?"

Bill felt his stomach flip over. "What?"

Lee crossed his arms over his chest. "When he caused the accident. Was Saul drunk like Mom used to do?"

It all seemed to hit Bill at once. CarolAnne. Oh, gods. He remembered that first incident that had made him push for custody, her getting pulled over with the boys in the car, failing the breath test.

Was he about to make the same mistake twice?

There were two choices he figured he could make. He could do the easy thing—he could tell Lee it was a mistake. Saul's charges were going to be dismissed; they didn't have a case. He'd be home in a couple days. Maybe some disciplinary action, a demotion, but everything back to normal before long.

Until it happened again. 

Or he could take action, for once, could prevent this from going on for years like it had with CarolAnne. 

"He was, Lee," Bill said softly. "He was drunk. That's why he doesn't know if he caused the accident."

"He doesn't _remember_?"

Bill nodded. "That's what happens when you get very, very drunk. You can forget things. It affects your body badly and you can't do things you can normally do. It's a terrible thing and no one should do it."

"But Saul did?"

"Yes," Bill said softly. He didn't want to get into it further, to tell Lee about how Saul had lied. It already hurt enough.

**

"I guess you're still suspended."

Bill looked up. His uncle was standing by his bed. "Ugh, what time is it?" He pushed himself up.

"Nine. Don't worry about the kids. Larry's here, too. He took them to school."

Bill groaned and swung his legs out of bed. "Sorry. I guess I just crashed." He rubbed his stubbly chin.

"Understandable. Go take a shower. I'll get coffee." He paused, as Bill was halfway to the bathroom. "They're releasing Saul this afternoon. They arrested a guy whose car paint was an exact match for the paint at the scene."

"I guess that's good."

"We'll talk about it."

The shower gave Bill more time to think.

When Saul was good, he was amazing—funny, sweet, thoughtful, supportive. Everything Bill would want in a partner. Someone he could really see helping to raise his boys.

But when things were bad…

He thought back to all the times he'd covered for Saul. It was too many to count. Was he really going to throw his career away for some drunk?

"We got options," Sam said when Bill appeared in the kitchen, dressed in a T-shirt and sweatpants. "We always have options, anipsió."

"Yeah? What are they?" Bill poured himself a cup of steaming hot coffee.

"Dump him." Sam held up one finger. "Leave him to his own devices and eventually he'll run himself into the ground."

Bill ran a hand through his damp hair. "I can't do that. I really… I really do love him."

"Then we can get him help."

Bill looked up at his uncle. "Like what?"

"There's a place on Tauron I know. I've arranged for guys to go there. They can help him."

"You mean like rehab? What about work?"

Sam sighed. "His career's over, Bill, and if you don't want yours to be the same, you'll stop covering for him. Now I know you're the military man, not me, but I should think it hasn't escaped your commanders' notice what kind of life he leads and I'm sure that doesn't reflect well on you."

Bill tugged at a loose thread on the hem of his shirt. "You're right."

"If I were you, I'd lay low, let him go at work. Take whatever they pass out in terms of punishment for covering for him. You're an Adama. You can take worse."

Bill gave him a thin smile. "And Saul?"

"We'll find out." Sam's serious expression broke into a wry grin. "If he's worthy of being an Adama, we'll find out."

**

Saul was stretched out on the bed in the motel, watching the game listlessly when there was a knock at the door.

"I'm coming," he groaned, rolling out of bed and shuffling over. It was Sam Adama.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure." Saul stepped aside, jerking his robe tighter around him.

The older man stepped in, removing his coat and hat. "I see you're enjoying your freedom." He looked at the open mini-bar, the empty bottle of beer on top of it and the bottle of wine in Saul's hand.

Saul thought for a moment for a good explanation as to what he was doing. He didn't have one. It now seemed silly that he'd just been released from jail on alcohol-related charges and was now proceeding to get good and drunk.

Why was he doing this?

He took one more swig from the wine bottle before setting it down on the table.

"Bill's kicking me out, if I understand this right." He turned and made his way back to the bed. "Or maybe you're going to kill me."

Sam smiled genially. "No, not going to kill you yet."

Saul sat on the bed. "What then?"

"I want to make you an offer, Saul." Sam pulled up a chair and sat. "You can leave—leave and don't come near my nephew or those boys again."

Saul crossed his arms over his chest. "Or?"

Sam reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and withdrew a brochure. "This."

Saul flipped through it. "Rehab? The hell are you talking about? I don't need that."

"You don't, do you?" Sam picked up the empty bottles. "This how you celebrate finding out you didn't hit that little girl?"

Saul scowled. He didn't like when someone hit right on the things that had already been weighing on his mind. Did that mean he and Sam were right? He looked at the wine bottle in Sam's hand. Had he really drunk the whole thing?

"I've known guys who went through this place." Sam tapped the brochure. "It's good, Saul. You do this and come back to my nephew and his family. Provide for them. You need a job, I'll give you a job, all the help I can give. I just want my nephew to be happy. But you need to let me help you, son."

"I'm guessing I'll get discharged," Saul said.

"That's how it looks. I'm sorry. I know how important being a pilot was to you."

"Yeah, well." Saul forked a hand through his hair. "Apparently not important enough. I kind of have a habit of throwing away the things that matter most."

"Not everything, Saul. You don't have to throw everything away."

Saul opened the brochure again.

**

Bill worried. It was his habit. Sam had told him Saul was going to rehab, that he couldn't see him before then, but that he had chosen to go. He still didn't like not having heard from Saul personally, but it told Bill the things he needed to focus on.

Money was tight, without Saul's income and with Bill's docked salary, but he threw everything into work. There were still a few kinks to work out in the Mark V and he was determined not to lose his position. It broke his heart how seamlessly Saul had vanished from his work life, but he had to keep going.

He got the first letter when he had stopped expecting one.

_Dear Bill,_

_I miss you, but your uncle convinced me this was the right thing to do. It was mostly him, but I'm glad I got the push. I frakked up my life, but I didn't need to keep frakking up yours._

_They're telling us to apologize to people we might have hurt due to our problems. I'm sorry. I should never have put you through any of that, starting with the first time you ever covered for me back on Sedulana. Why you'd stick by me when that was how I started our friendship off I'll probably never understand, but I'll be making it up to you every day for the rest of my life, if you'll let me._

_Love,  
Saul_

When the boys came home, he sat them down on the couch.

"I got a letter from Saul today."

"On Tauron?" Zak asked, cuddled up to Bill's side. He draped his arms around both of them.

"Yes. He's getting better there and he's doing well."

"When's he coming home?"

"When he's better."

Lee still hadn't said anything. Bill rubbed his shoulder.

"It's going to be okay, Lee," he said softly. "He's working on getting help and we'll support him."

Lee nodded, though he still looked skeptical. "Can we go stay with Mom during fall break?"

"I'll have to talk to her." Bill wasn't looking forward to explaining all of this to CarolAnne, but if this did anything to mess with the custody arrangement, he'd take it and deal with the fallout.

It was the least he could do to take care of his family.

**

He didn't know if they could visit Saul in rehab, didn't know if Saul would want them to. They wrote letters, though, even Lee, after a while. Saul's writing voice wasn't like his speaking voice but Bill appreciated the fact that he was able to write out things he wasn't able to say aloud.

The months passed and Saul wrote that he was in a halfway house, looking forward to coming home . Bill started work on the improvements to the Mark V, pleased to have an increased role with the engineering team. He couldn't wait to tell Saul about it, but it would have to wait until he was home—he did worry that Saul hearing about what he was missing would make him sad.

The boys went to CarolAnne's for a week, which Bill took as an opportunity to clean out the apartment. He got rid of a lot of things they weren't using anymore and it made him feel good to donate old clothes. Also, it left plenty of room for Saul's things in the other side of the closet. He'd never had proper room; had never really had his fair share of storage.

Things would be different now.

**

"Is _this_ his flight?"

"No, stupid, this flight's from Gemenon."

"Lee, don't call your brother stupid."

"Sorry." Lee scuffed at the linoleum with his toe.

"Can we go look at the lights on the way home? Can we get ice cream?"

"If Saul isn't tired."

Zak squeezed Bill's hand tightly in anticipation, which was reassuring to Bill, too. Saul's flight would be the next one disembarking, if the snow didn't cause delays.

The people from the flight from Gemenon dispersed and the doors opened again.

And there he was.

"Saul!" Zak took off and threw himself into Saul's arms.

"Oh, hey, kiddo." Saul scooped Zak up. "How've you been?"

Bill was there a moment later to pull him into a tight hug. "Missed you," he murmured into Saul's neck. He pulled him tighter. He'd been working out, was more muscular. He'd mentioned playing pyramid in his letters.

"What's that?" Lee asked, lifting Saul's finger. There were two squares tattooed there.

"Oh, that's you guys." He ruffled Lee's hair and bounced Zak on his hip. "Just like your great-uncle's got."

Bill stared at him. This was Saul, but he looked different somehow, held himself taller. His hair was neatly combed and he didn't slouch like he'd used to.

Zak wriggled and Saul set him down. "I'm glad you got home for Solstice."

"Me, too."

"How are you?" Lee asked.

Saul smiled. "I feel good, Lee. I'm ready to come home. Gonna work in Uncle Sam's garage, gonna take care of you three."

Lee looked somewhat satisfied. Bill knew it would take a while for him to come around to Saul again, might take a while for them all to get used to Saul. For all he knew, Saul would relapse and be worse than before.

"I'm starving," Saul said. "One thing I missed about Caprica was Casey's. Should we get some burgers and shakes?"

"Yeah!"

Bill let the kids dominate the conversation during dinner. He still had to take Saul in, the subtle changes, the new ink, the Artemis medal around his neck that kept peeking out from open collar of his shirt.

A big meal tired the boys out and they both fell asleep in the car, having to be nudged reluctantly back up to the apartment and to bed.

That left Bill and Saul alone.

"I can go to a hotel if you don't want me to stay the night." Saul was leaning in the doorway to the living room, looking at Bill cautiously.

"No, stay." Bill stepped up and slipped a tentative arm around him. He liked the feel of a Saul who'd been working out. "I'm proud of you, Saul. You worked hard."

Saul smiled sheepishly. "Yeah. I'm real sorry, Bill, I meant that."

Bill hugged him tight. "Don't apologize, Saul. New start."

"I know. Sometimes don't think I'm worth even that." He sighed. "A lot's happened, Bill." He tugged his medal out from under his shirt. "They pointed me to a group here in Caprica City… Don't know if you want to come, it's a bunch of religious stuff."

Bill brushed back his hair. "I'd love to."

"I'm going to thank your uncle," he went on. "He's probably had a lot more faith in me than I deserve."

"You can thank him on Solstice," said Bill with a smile. "For now, I just want you to myself."

He pulled Saul into a kiss. There was surely a lot to get through in the coming year; he'd have to get used to how best to help Saul with what he needed. He couldn't even imagine what it would be like for Saul to transition back to the real world…

But they'd do their best. Bill had a lot of making up to do and for his family, he'd do it.


End file.
